Shades Of Unrequited Memories (Guardian Angels)
by SashaLikaMusica
Summary: What if Emily had chosen to go with Alison? What secrets will she learn? Does Alison still love her? Emily doesn't know, but she hopes that if she discovers the truth, it'll be well worth every single lie. Rating is T. Might change to M later.
1. Chapter 1

**After getting knocked out in the barn while searching for Dr. Sullivan, what if Emily had accepted Ali's offer to stay with her forever?**

_Shades of unrequited memories laced the golden air._

_A wild hope was filled, a dream, as she blinked her teary eyes._

_She only hoped that it wasn't a dream._

_Pure truth was well worth the lies._

After the barn doors slammed closed, Emily frantically began pounding on the metal doors, screaming for help, yelling fruitlessly in the desperate hope that someone would hear. Turning to scan the walls for windows or vents to escape through, she caught sight of the exhaust seeping rapidly from the purring engine of the car. A momentary panic seized her, and she nearly screamed again, but something made her stop – a subconscious knowledge that however loud she screamed, no one would ever hear her.

She sank to the floor in despair, rubbing her temples with her palms in an effort to shock some sense back into herself. _Why, _she admonished herself miserably, _why did you have to fall for that stupid trick? Doctor Sullivan isn't here, Emily, how could you be so stupid?_ Letting out a small noise of exasperation, she allowed her hand to drop to the floor as the barn swam hazily before her eyes. Everything was becoming foggy, shifting, blurring; the girls . . . they would never know what had happened to her . . . oh well. At least she would die trying to save a friend.

The colors swirled before her, growing steadily paler around the edges as she slumped to the floor . . .

Movement. Emily was moving. No, that couldn't be right; dead girls didn't move – _someone _was moving _her. _The dim knowledge registered with her that if she felt someone moving her, she couldn't be dead. And yet, why was everything so free, so painless? Life couldn't exist without a little pain . . . maybe the exhaust was making her dream . . . but no. Dead girls didn't dream. Firmly convinced of her death, Emily's eyes fluttered open, focused – and then she let out a strangled gasp.

Dead girls didn't smile.

"A – Ali?" Emily choked out, coughing on her words as the oxygen rushed abruptly back into her lungs. Bewildered and slightly horrified, she stared upwards in shock at the figure hovering above her. At first, she thought her sight was incorrectly driven – it was Cece, or Hanna, or one of Toby's friends. But truly, all along, her mind was nudging her warningly, hissing at her that this was not a dream.

There was no mistaking that heart-shaped face, those soft blonde curls, those wide, sparkling lavender eyes – the softly-featured face, the full lips, the blushed cheeks and warm, gentle, secretive smile. There was no possibility that the strong, supportive arms beneath Emily were not real, or that the streaming sunlight was not as bright as it appeared to be, shining delicately on her pale blue, flowered tank top. The daintily-muscled shoulders, the easy, relaxed grace with which the slender figure held itself – all could not be a figment of Emily's imagination.

It was Alison.


	2. Breathless

**A/N: This is only my second go at this one. It's hard getting into the mind of Emily; I'm thinking of switching to Ali's POV. Good idea? No? Let me know! **

**I'm going on vacation soon and won't have internet, so it might be a week or two before I go any further with this.**

"Em," Ali crooned softly, her melodic voice hushed with a tenderness that Emily had never witnessed in it before. "I've been waiting for you, darling. Time does tick by slowly when you've got nothing to do but hide away." Her face was framed like a halo by the sun, shining down like the perfect, innocent angel. Emily closed her eyes, hoping against hope that when she opened them again, her angel would be there still. She knew it was ridiculous, with all the questions that would soon arise, but only three small, moderate responses were to be coaxed out of her system.

The first was a thought, a sighing breath of relief – _she hasn't changed; she's still my beautiful Ali. _The second arrived in the form of a tingling sensation that flashed swiftly through her lower abdomen, leaving Emily vulnerable and slightly shaky. She hadn't felt that in so long. It had been so, so long. The final response was a hasty, irrational realization, _if Ali's here, then I must be dead. People only see angels when they're dead._

"Ali, how are you . . . alive?" Emily croaked, her forehead crumpling anxiously for fear that her angel would disappear. She didn't want to be alive if it meant she lost her again. Ali's small, warm hand gently caressed the side of Emily's face, lingering on her cheek and jaw and leaving a trace of fire upon the burning skin. She gazed down at the brunette adoringly, a loving glow in her beautiful blue eyes.

"Oh Em, don't you see? None of that matters now," Ali admonished her gently, smiling almost sadly as she stroked the other girl's thick, silky hair. "It's only you and me, only here, only now. Nothing else matters in the world except what's here in front of you right now." Emily raised a hand wonderingly to Ali's face, trailing along her eyebrows, her cheek, her jawline, tracing all the way down to her collar bone before she dropped it back in place. Ali's warm hand closed over it, squeezing lightly, soothingly, in reassurance.

"Am I – am I dead?" Emily asked hesitantly, watching Ali with a mixture of anxiety and adoration. Certainly she had to be dead – Ali was dead; if Emily could see her, she was either dead as well, or completely insane, which she would gladly trade death for any day if it meant _this _got to happen.

"Of course not, Em, what would make you think something silly like that?" Ali inquired, shifting so that she was kneeling on the dirty ground, the knees of her mint-green capris soaking into the dirt. She pulled Emily's head and shoulders into her lap, gently, and began stroking her hair with an entirely un-Ali-like emotion straining through her eyes.

"But – how can I see you then?" Emily wondered, forehead crumpling in disappointment as her friend cracked a small smile. "Why am I seeing ghosts?" She would have longed for death as an excuse to remain there with the one she loved forever. But Ali merely laughed in a show of amusement and almost angelic, glowing beauty.

"Oh Em," she laughed softly, trailing her hand along Emily's face sweetly. "Do I look dead to you?" With her face lit up in a teasing, knowing smile, warmth glowing across her entire face, she looked entirely and astoundingly alive. This was the Ali as Emily remembered her – warm, tangible, and extraordinarily brimming with life. In that moment, Emily was overwhelmed by the sense of familiarity that struck her at the sight of the other girl; surrounded by Ali, _literally _surrounded by her, breathing in her scent and feeling the warmth of her arms around her . . . it was as if she had never left.

Emily's eyes were abruptly pricked with tears.

"Oh, Ali," she whimpered, burying her face in the front of the thin, cotton-flowered blouse. "I missed you so much. We all did. So much Ali, you have no idea." For a minute, Ali simply held her there, arms loosely about her, pressing her face to her chest in a rare show of affection. A few tears dampened the material of the shirt, and Emily squeezed her eyes shut tight in the hope that when she opened them again, this would all still be real. She didn't think she could bear to wake up and find that it had all been a dream; it was all too vibrant, too close, too comforting. Even the _smell _of Ali alone, that wonderful, twisty hint of Victoria's Secret perfume and rain, was enough to drive her crazy for the rest of her life. She was surprised when Ali spoke, breaking the comforting, soothing, friendly silence (that was weighted with something much heavier, but Emily knew that she would never get a chance to say it clearly).

"Why don't you come with me then." Emily blinked, pulling away from the shirt long enough to scrutinize Ali's face.

"W – what?" she whimpered, her voice still trembling slightly yet entirely disbelieving.

"Come with me Em," Ali said seriously, straightening up and pulling Emily to her feet along with her. "Leave the rest of them behind. You can follow me, and we'll be together forever, always hiding and dancing in the shadows – just the two of us. I wasn't lying when I said that you always were my favorite," she reminded her, her face completely solemn. She took both of Emily's hands in her own, pulling her close and looking straight into her eyes.

"Come with me, Em," she whispered again, this time with a hint of longing in her voice that only Emily could catch. It came from years of knowing her so well. "It's awfully lonely pretending to be dead." Emily gulped down the lump in her throat, refusing to meet Ali's eyes. She was too nervous. Too afraid. Too hopeful. A lifetime with only Ali . . .

It sounded perfect.

"But what about . . ." she trailed off, not wanting to say the names of her other friends, as if somehow saying it would break them away from her forever. Alison smiled, waiting patiently for a positive response.

"The girls?" she finished, knowing what Emily was about to say. "Em, it's over now for them. A's getting too close for comfort. Who knows what might happen to them – you might lose them. But you'll always, always have me," she said serenely, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Emily's ear. Emily shivered.

"And anyways," Ali continued, smiling knowingly. "Haven't you ever thought how deliciously tragic it would be to disappear in some incredibly mysterious way? Missing: the best friend of the girl who died in Rosewood. You'll be a national _sensation,_ Em." Emily shuddered at the repeat of those words spoken long ago, and at the delight in Ali's voice as she talked of being recognized. And she thought.

She thought of her future, of her parents, of Maya, and Samara, and Shauna, and Paige . . . she thought of high school, and parties, and tests, and swim meets. She thought of Hanna, Aria, and Spencer.

And then she thought of Alison. Mysterious, secretive, challenging Alison – the girl who made her feel special, who was sweet and loving and dangerous all at once. She thought of the life that they could have. And then she pulled Ali close, and whispered in her ear, her breath whooshing sensuously across the bare skin and making her angel shiver.

"Yes."


	3. I Loved Her (Against All Reason)

**A/N: Sorry guys, I know this one is a bit short. I promise I'll do some more quickly. I just felt like I needed a bit of something that showed how safe Ali makes Em feel, since she needs to be able to trust her completely. R&R, you know the drill.**

_I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness; against all discouragement that could be. _

Darkness had fallen long ago, but for Emily, all time had ceased.

She lay bundled in blankets on the backseat of the helicopter (she hadn't bothered to question its purpose), her head in Ali's lap as her angel stroked her hair soothingly, murmuring quiet words that had no rhythm. She had insisted that she was well enough to sit on her own, but when she had stood up, a wave of dizziness had overcome her (probably from that stupid exhaust pipe in the barn). Ali had become quite frantic then in a manner that was unfamiliar, anxiously fluttering over Emily and letting out a little cry of worry whenever the other girl stumbled. At last, she finally stated that Emily was to walk no farther, and had scooped up her friend in her arms and carried her, bridal style, to the helicopter.

(Emily couldn't remember Alison being that strong, ever, and she knew that Ali had never shown distress in such a manner before, but she figured that the girl had reasons).

Before, she had been concerned about her friends – how to contact them, what to say, where to go. She had wondered what to do about her parents – surely they would worry. Would the girls know that she was all right? Should she leave a sign? How long would it take them to figure out that something had gone wrong?

Now, all Emily knew was Ali. She was enfolded in a warm, quiet essence of tumbling blonde curls, smooth skin, and that breath-taking scent that was so comfortably familiar. It smelled of rain, and comfy pillows, and a hint of perfume, and _home. _Lying there, she was lulled by a feeling of safety in the arms of the beautiful girl who was secretive, tragic, mysterious, loving, and fun, and wonderfully familiar. She couldn't describe it with any sense but her consciousness; it was safe and calming and sheltered, and most of all, it was simply _Ali._

Before she knew it, soothed by the low murmurs and soft hair tickling her face, cradled in the arms of her guardian angel, Emily finally drifted off to sleep.


	4. Patterns Are Broken (New Worlds Emerge)

**A/N: I know, I know; this one isn't that good. I just HAD to do one from Ali's POV. Let me know if I should do more.**

_Everyone dies. Not everyone gets to die and still be wholly, perfectly, frighteningly alive._

Ali was stunned, her perfect composure nearly slipping as she was caught off guard.

Never before had she felt so alive. It was like standing in a thunderstorm, waiting for the rain. Instead, the lightning had come, and she was shocked back into existence after months of dormancy. Now, looking adoringly down at the beautiful girl in her arms, she felt an electric sensation jolt through her heart. It was like being jumpstarted.

She didn't understand how she could be; after all, she had been _dead_ for over a year.

The second Emily's eyes had fluttered open, something deep inside Ali broke, shattered. Seeing the fear, the uncertainty, and the pain she had caused her old friend was nearly unbearable, yes, but the sensation ran deeper than that. Ali had pushed away Emily's advances before, always attributing it to puppy love and idolization. Now, gazing down at the girl she held, she finally understood.

She would never completely forget what Ian had done to her, what Wilden had done, and Noel. They had hurt her, badly, though sometimes they didn't even mean to. She shuddered slightly, recalling the feeling of Ian's rough hand as it stung across her cheek; the bruises shaped like handprints; the harsh shoves and loud, drunk voices; the feeling of loss, the anger. Desperately, back then, she had convinced herself that it was for the best, that it was what every girl went through with a boyfriend.

Now she knew; it was all a lie. And she knew that this girl, the one with the peaceful expression and luminous dark eyes, the one who cried whenever she found a dead bird – this girl would never hurt her. This girl would seek her out for comfort, and wrap Ali in her arms, holding her closer than could ever be possible. She would listen patiently to any complaints, any grief; any troubles that she had. She would give up everything for her, Ali knew, and she wasn't sure whether to be flattered or frightened by the thought. She was terrified of the men; that's all she knew for certain, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she wanted to try something new.

She didn't understand, _still, _even _now, _how the deeds of others could haunt her so.

While Emily was sleeping, she allowed herself to test it out. Hesitantly, curiously, she permitted her hands to wander freely; she traced the soft features of the girl's face; her collarbone; the base of her neck; a shoulder. Her eyes drank in all there was to be shown – that beautiful, shimmering dark hair, the full lips, the delicately fluttering eyelashes . . .

Comparing it with the rough, too-large hands of Ian and Wilden, Ali found that she was uncertain for the first time in her life.

Unnerved by the emotions that were rushing through her, she leaned back, and she waited.


	5. The World Is Round (When Shadows Fall)

**A/N: I'm thinking of doing every other chapter in Ali's POV. Good idea? Sorry if they seem a bit OOC; let me know if it's too much so.**

_It is the end of something simple and the beginning of everything else._

Emily's dreams were hazy, submerged in a cloudy whiteness and tinged with violent fringes around the edges she couldn't quite reach. A ringing silence filled the air, dull and muted by an unknown, external force. She couldn't see. She couldn't move; she only knew that she was standing, and that she was at peace.

"Em, sweetie, wake up. We're here." Alison's smooth, melodic voice drifted through her dreams, gently coaxing her awake. Emily's eyes fluttered open, blinking hurriedly, confused. Most people, she knew, often let slip from their minds the most important things, and when they awoke, they found themselves with no recollection of the day's previous events. She was pleased to discover that with her, at least, this was not the case.

It was raining outside, the sky gloomy, the woods sunken and wavering in the dusk. But her clothes soaked; she wasn't even damp. The room was warm, airy, and comfortably furnished with delicate, detailed touches that held hints of Ali's handiwork and style. One wall, the wall that caught Emily's attention as she turned, was made entirely of large, arching windows that reached so high she was sure that the structure must be some sort of cabin, or small house at least.

Her eyes travelled curiously about the space, taking in the hardwood floors, the woodsy view out the window; the large, stony fireplace. The raindrops were clattering against the windows, pleading to be allowed in to witness the heat and comfort of that room; she was glad for the dry warmth. As her eyes swept across the center of the room, they caught on the slender figure lounging on the couch, and were pulled back, just like a thread. She breathed a sigh of relief, the constriction in her chest fading away.

"Ali," she breathed, happiness flooding through her like the licking flames of a fire. A tenacious smile met her words; the beautiful, willowy blonde sprawled across the cushions, completely relaxed. She had changed, Emily noted, and was now clothed in a flowing yellow blouse and a pair of jeans that hugged her long legs perfectly. A shudder ran through her at the sight of the knowing smirk, and she realized that no matter what had happened since they'd last seen each other, Ali hadn't changed a bit.

"Em, before we do anything else, there's someone you have to meet." Ali's face was composed, serious, staring Emily down with an intensity that she couldn't ignore. Emily frowned, confused. Hadn't Ali said she'd been in hiding all this time? Was there someone there with her? Was it one of the A Team?

"Who do you . . .?" she trailed off as Ali shook her head sharply, cautioning her with her eyes not to continue. Still looking at Emily pointedly, she swung her legs off the couch and made her way over to the foot of the small staircase that stood halfway across the room beside the door. Emily noticed that she still swung her hips the same way as she walked; the memory nearly brought tears to her eyes. Reaching the foot of the staircase, the tap of Ali's heels stopped, and she leaned over with the railing for support, and called upstairs.

"Audrey, you can come down now," she called softly. Emily had just opened her mouth to ask who Audrey was when a blur of white, pale cream, and gold rushed down the stairs and into Ali's arms, crying, "Mama, mama, mama!" Emily stared in shock as the blur stilled, solidified, and became a small girl, slightly older than a toddler, dressed in a white cotton sundress with lacy frills. Emily sputtered.

"Ali, wha – what the hell – " she stuttered, utterly bewildered. Alison cut across her with an appalled expression.

"Emily, language! She's just a little girl!" Protectively, she pulled the young one close, pressing the child into her body as Audrey hid her face in Ali's pant leg. Emily's eyes were wide with shock, her entire body stunned into immobilization.

"Who – who is she?" she croaked at last, barely able to find her voice, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer to the question in some back corner of her mind. Perhaps in a more controlled moment, she would have phrased the query differently; however, she was so shaken by the child's appearance that she had been stunned into speechlessness. Ali sighed heavily, her delicate shoulders falling slightly with the exhalation of breath. Her eyes were almost weary, Emily saw with a twinge of surprise; such a display of emotions was rare for her friend.

"You already know who she is, Emily," Ali said softly. When Emily's face continued to portray nothing but blank astonishment, she sighed again and crouched down, speaking quietly to the little girl before gently taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face her friend. At the full view of the child, Emily let out a dumbfounded gasp.

It was easy to see the resemblance now – from the silky blonde curls, heart-shaped face, and small nose to the huge, wide, solemn sapphire eyes . . . she was Alison's daughter, through and through.

"How old?" Emily whispered, unable to tear her eyes off of the little girl. Had she been able to, she would have seen that Alison's face had crumpled, tears pricking at the corners of the stunning, luminous eyes.

"Three years," she whispered back, her clear, controlling voice breaking in the middle of the words. At the sound, Emily looked up, and was surprised to see tears flowing freely down Ali's cheeks. With a slight gasp, she quickly strode over to the girl and wrapped her gently in her arms. Ali's body shuddered with uncontainable sobs.

"I – I did everything I could, Em," she wept, her voice trembling. "It was so hard, you have no idea – I was _fourteen, _Em, barely, and everyone thought I was dead – I didn't even figure out I was pregnant until after I disappeared, and I couldn't have told _him _anyways; he would have killed me, Em . . ." Emily didn't even bother wondering who "he" was; she was far too distraught at the image of fourteen-year-old, pregnant Ali running off to the woods to hide. Instead of burdening her friend with questions, she simply wiped the tears from Ali's eyes with a tenderness that did not go unnoticed.

"Y – you're being so nice to me," Ali sniffled, her crying easing up a little bit. "I owe you. I've been a terrible friend for the past few years. I don't deserve this." Emily ignored her; Ali deserved everything. No matter what they ever did, Emily couldn't stand the sight of any girl hurting. She was about to release a mildly soothed Ali when a small, angelic voice broke through to them.

"Mama, who is she? Why's she hugging you?" Ali laughed as she pulled away from Emily and bent down to hug her little girl; Emily remarked inwardly that Ali was never more beautiful than when she laughed. Ali put her arms around Audrey and hefted her up into her arms, sitting her on her forearm and securing her with her shoulder. Now Emily understood why she was so strong all of a sudden.

"Audrey, baby, this is my best friend in the whole world," Ali told her daughter, jouncing her up and down (Emily's heart skipped at Ali's subtle title for her; she knew that she was _one _of her best friends, but she hadn't known that Ali had thought of them as being that close). "Her name's Emily, and she's going to live with us now." Audrey's mouth – her bow-shaped lips perfectly mimicked Ali's – made an O-shape, and her huge eyes went even rounder.

"But mama, you said that we came here because nobody loved you anymore. You said you'd never let me meet anyone who didn't love you, and who you didn't love, because it hurts to not be loved." The little girl babbled on, quite unaware of the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon her mother and Emily.

"Remarkable perception of life for a toddler," Emily muttered. Alison pressed her teeth into her lower lip nervously, not meeting Emily's eyes.

"Yes, I did say that, baby," she murmured quietly, closing her eyes. Audrey tilted her head in a flawless imitation of her mother, her eyes fastened curiously upon Emily.

"Do you love Emily, then?" Ali's breath hitched, and she inhaled deeply before her eyes slid slowly open. Though her face was entirely impassive, flawlessly controlled, Emily could see a trace of dull panic in her eyes. She waited with bated breath.

"Sweetie," Ali said finally, craning her neck to look into her daughter's face. "Remember how I told you that there are two different kinds of love?" Audrey nodded gravely, and the strangely adult gesture quirked a smile up in Emily's lips before she realized what Ali had said.

"That's a lie," Emily blurted, the words pushing themselves through her lips before she could catch them in action. Mother and daughter turned to look at her simultaneously, duplicated faces identically quizzical and affronted. The sight unnerved her slightly.

"I mean . . . that's not what I meant," Emily finished lamely. "I meant, there're more than two kinds of love, right? Love can be anything. It can come in shape or form." She lowered her eyes nervously, afraid that she had said too much. Even with her glance cast down, she could feel the fierce intensity of Ali's gaze.

"Sweetie, I think Emily's right," she heard Ali said softly. "I love you, and Beauty and the Beast love each other," Emily rolled her eyes at the Disney reference. "And I love Emily, and it's different." Though the words couldn't possibly hold the meaning and intention that Emily was praying for, hoping for, longing for, it was enough to hear Ali say that she loved her. To be loved by Alison was an incredibly thing – a blessing; something that only came to someone who was either completely special or entirely unique.

Maybe the two of them together were a little bit of both.

"Are you and Emily like Beauty and the Beast?" Emily's head jerked up in shock, and looking across the room, she could see Ali's astonished face. In fact, the idea of Alison being surprised so tickled her that she began to laugh softly, and then uncontrollably.

Ali looked as though she would very much like to join, and she grinned mischievously.

"I think that Emily's the Beast," she teased lightly. Emily gave her a playful shove back, whacking her shoulder gently. Her heart was soaring; it had been more than four years since she had seen Ali laughing, teasing – she looked so young, so lighthearted; so _free. _Emily's lips curled up in a coy smile, and she opened her mouth to counter Ali's suggestion when Audrey spoke again.

"Mama, can Beauty _and_ the Beast both be girls?" she asked tentatively. The smirk was wiped off of Ali's face, to be replaced with a look that was almost frantic. Emily only laughed harder, sinking down to grip the edge of the glass coffee table for support. Ali's features were strained.

"Audrey, I think it's time for you to go take your bath," she said weakly, setting the little girl down and giving her an encouraging push in the direction of the staircase.

"But mama – "

"Audrey, please? That's my good girl." Audrey obliged reluctantly, pausing halfway up the stairs.

"Mama, if you wanted to, could you and Emily get married?"

Alison went deathly pale as Emily collapsed on the floor in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.


	6. Chasing Cars

**A/N: Just a bit of Ali/Em fluff. Once again, I know that Ali's very much out of character, but she's changed a lot in the years that she was missing and she has a daughter now. R&R plz. Suggestions and criticisms are welcome.**

_I argue thee that love is life, and life hath immortality._

"That wasn't funny, you know," Ali informed her, twisting and posing before the full-length mirror in the darkened bedroom. Audrey had already fallen asleep; they could talk as loudly as they felt like. Emily shrugged, re-wrapped the towel tighter around her body; the shower had hot water, but the spring night air was far from warm. Ali wheeled around suddenly, frowning disapprovingly.

"It really wasn't," she said again, slightly impatient this time. "I've taught her to not talk about things like that, and then you come along and ruin it. I raised my daughter just fine for three and a half years; I'm pretty sure I don't need your help." Emily started to open her mouth, thought the better of it, and clamped it firmly shut again. After years of being Ali's friend, the blonde's rapid mood swings continued to stupefy her.

"You were fourteen, Ali," she said finally, beginning to brush out her long, wetly tangled dark hair. The hairbrush caught in the snarls, and she was forced to yank it free, tugging out several strands of hair along with it. She winced, and setting the brush down, attempted to accomplish a similar feat with a comb. Ali blinked, glaring.

"Are you suggesting I didn't raise my daughter well enough? Because the last time I checked, she's the politest, sweetest little girl I've ever met. And I was a lot more mature than you at fourteen, anyways." Ali's hands were on her hips now, showcasing the fact that she was only in her underwear. They were dark green lace, matching top and bottom. Emily gulped, and hastily averted her eyes.

"No, not at all!" she exclaimed hurriedly, afraid that she had upset the blonde. "I just meant . . . well, I guess I meant that maybe the things you taught her then, maybe you feel differently about them now." Ali's lips puckered up in a pout, jaw clenching, and then relaxed.

"I guess you're right, Em. You're such a sweetheart," she gushed abruptly, turning back to the mirror as she wiggled into her pajama shirt. "Zip me up?" Emily was taken aback, startled once again by the change in attitude. Her gaze wandered up the smooth, silky expanse of creamy skin that lay exposed of Ali's back, and bit her lip. Ali raised an eyebrow in impatience, directing her a look through the glass that said _hurry up Em; god, you're such a slowpoke._

"'Kay," she whispered hoarsely, stepping forward before hesitantly laying a hand on Ali's left shoulder blade to steady herself. Slowly, leisurely, she tugged up the zipper, her hands shaking, mouth dry. At the top, her fingertips brushed the base of Ali's neck, beneath her hair, and for a moment, she felt the smaller girl shiver. She glanced up quickly, caught Ali's eyes in the mirror, and narrowed her own worriedly. Her eyes were frozen, staring back at Emily through the shadowed reflection, slightly glazed.

"Are you all right?" Emily murmured, her hands stilling, though they still trembled slightly. After a moment of immobility, Ali drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and tore her eyes away. Focusing on a spot slightly to the left of Emily's shoulder, she jerked her head towards the four-poster in the center of the elaborately decorated room.

"I – I don't have another bed," she said, in a much louder tone than was necessary. Her voice had risen an octave, and sounded almost hysterical. "I can sleep on the couch, or we can share, o – or . . ." Emily cut across her smoothly, taking the small, soft hands in her own tenderly.

"It's all right, Ali," she soothed, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "We can share. I don't mind." A fleeting look of panic passed across the other girl's face, to be swiftly replaced by one of relief. Her shoulders dropped down slightly, as though relieved of a heavy weight.

"Thank you," she said softly, still not meeting Emily's eyes. "I've been alone for so long, I guess I'd forgotten what it was like to be around another person. I mean, I have Audrey," she stumbled, her voice rising slightly higher again. "But you know, she's just a little girl, and I haven't seen anyone else in four years, and sometimes I just get so lonely, and . . ." once again, Emily cut off her rambling, tilting her chin up with a fingertip.

"Ali, calm down," she murmured. Ali's eyes were wide and freaked – she gave the impression of a person who had just been severely spooked. "You're so tense; you need to just take it slowly, okay?" Ali nodded, tears threatening to appear in her eyes once more. "You're beautiful, and strong, and loving, despite your flaws, because they're what make you strong. You've done so well, Ali, and you have the most beautiful daughter in the world and truly she is the luckiest little girl alive to have you as a mother." By now, teardrops were once again flowing freely down Ali's flushed cheeks. She shook her head wildly as Emily calmed her.

"I don't know why I'm such a bitch," she whined, struggling to pull away. "I try so hard not to snap at people, but I guess it's in my nature. I'm a terrible person, Em; I'm a horrible mother. Audrey would be so much better off without me; I should've gotten an abortion, or given her up for adoption – anything would be better than this – " She was silenced as Emily cut across her tirade for the third time, pulling Ali sharply back into her and opening the door of the room.

"Come here," she said firmly, part of her mind still processing that she was the one in control for once, and not Ali. "I'm going to show you something, and you're going to shut the hell up and listen to me, all right?" Blinking the wetness out of her eyes, Ali swallowed, and nodded faintly. "Good." She pulled a silent Ali out the door and down the hall several steps, crossing it to reach the door to Audrey's room where the child had gone to sleep. She pushed open the door, dragging Ali inside to where the little girl lay curled on her side, thumb in her mouth.

"You see that?" Emily demanded in a low tone. "Do you see that beautiful little girl?" Crying silently, Ali nodded, and it was true – the sleeping toddler had an angelic beauty about her, a sort of fresh, safe innocence. She was just like her mother, Emily knew. She would always be beautiful, and strong, and capable – and maybe just a little bit controlling, but as long as the other features held out, that was all right.

"That's your daughter," Emily told her firmly. "Whoever the hell knocked you up, Ali, whether it was Ian, or Garrett, or Wilden – " Ali's minute shudder at the mention of the detective's name did not go unnoticed. " – I don't care who it was, Ali; they had nothing to do with this. Not _this," _she repeated, gesturing to Audrey as Ali opened her mouth to protest. "Sure, they were there, they caused it, but _you _finished it. You created this child; you carried her, you loved her, you made her what she is." Ali was shaking now with silent sobs, her delicate shoulders heaving against their heavy weight.

"This is all you, baby girl," Emily finished softly, cradling the slender, crying girl in her arms. "You created something so special, so perfect . . . she's just like you, Ali. And when I say that, I mean that she's sweet, and brave, and so incredibly beautiful that _everyone, _and I mean _everyone, _is going to want to be a part of her life. I pity the fool that left you Ali, because he'll never get to know this gorgeous little girl or her angel of a mother." Seeing Audrey flail and stir slightly in her sleep, Emily lowered her voice even more, tracing Ali's jaw with a tenderness that made Ali shiver.

"You're an angel, Ali," she whispered, caressing the soft, warm skin beneath her fingertips. Ali's eyes slid shut; she leaned into Emily's touch instinctively, without even realizing. "You're my perfect, beautiful angel. You're my Ali." Slowly, gently, she drew Ali closer, feeling her heat, feeling the warm glow that radiated off her blushing skin. Something in Ali clicked; the emotion she had been feeling earlier, whatever the hell it was, suddenly felt right, and for the first time in her life, she permitted herself to be just that – herself. Ali leaned up on her tiptoes, slightly shorter, but the perfect height to meet Emily's lips. They leaned in, closer and closer, slowly, gradually; deliberately taking their time until Emily could feel Ali's warm breath on her neck. Their noses touched, they inhaled; they were so close, they were only an inch away . . .

"Mama, I had a bad dream. Will you read to me?" With a soft groan, Ali pulled away, her hand trailing down Emily's arm in the process (Emily trembled). Stepping over to the little bed, she scooped the toddler up in her arms and rocked her, supporting her with her head against her chest. Emily's heart melted at the sight; something in the picture of Ali holding her child, so protective, so nurturing, awoke an instinct she was unfamiliar with. Within seconds, she was behind them, her arms winding around Ali's waist in the dark, pressing her lips to the side of her neck, where Audrey couldn't see.

"S – sure baby," Ali murmured (Emily couldn't tell which of them she was talking to). "But I can't read right now; it's dark and the light would wake you up even more. How about I hold your hand while Emily tells you a story?" Emily smiled into the darkness, shifting her hands so that her fingertips just brushed the skin beneath the hem of Ali's thin cotton blouse.

"'Kay." Caringly, Ali laid the toddler down carefully in her bed, tucking the blankets in carefully around her before petting the little girl's hair comfortingly. Emily stood beside her, arm around her angel as the shorter girl leaned into her.

"Okay," she whispered to the little girl. "This one's about a princess, okay?" Audrey snuggled more securely into her blankets.

"'Kay." Emily smiled, pressing invisibly closer to Ali, feeling a tremor go through the girl beneath her touch.

"Okay," she murmured. Ali cuddled closer, attentive; both of them listening closely to her words. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Audrey." Audrey giggled.

"That's me," she whispered importantly, grinning. Emily felt Ali smile, too.

"Yes, that's you," she said, her voice low and soothing. "Now this little girl was a very special little girl – she had a mama who was the best mama in the whole wide world." In the dim light from the hall, they could see Audrey smile again.

"That's still me," she whispered again, delighted. "My mama's the best mama in the world, did you know that? Even better than – than anybody!" Emily's lips quirked as she felt Ali turn and press her face into her neck, her eyes damp with tears once more.

"Yes, you do have the best mama in the world," she agreed again, and felt Ali's grip on her hands tighten. "But in this story, her mama is very sad. She's got a great big house, and a huge garden, and lots of friends, but she's very, very sad."

"Why?" Audrey whispered, awestruck.

"Because nobody loved her," Emily said softly. A quiet sound of pity escaped the child.

"Oooooh," she sighed sadly, shifting in her bed. Then she perked up. "Then what happened?" she asked eagerly, though Emily could tell she was rapidly growing sleepy.

"Well, her mama was outside one day, and she met another young lady travelling in disguise. This girl was really a queen, you know, but she didn't want Audrey's mama to know it yet."

"Why," Audrey murmured, but it was no longer a question.

"Because she'd been watching her for a while, and she loved her," Emily said. A low, unintelligible mumble escaped Audrey's lips. Emily continued. "She knew she loved her, and so she asked the little girl's mama if she loved her back."

"What happened?" Ali whispered, her face still buried in Emily's neck.

"The little girl's mama said yes, and so the queen took off her disguise and told her who she was, and brought her back to the castle to live her with."

"What happened then?" Ali asked lowly, her breath hot and moist; ticklish in Emily's ear.

"They lived happily ever after," she finished simply. Audrey managed to get out a few more sleepy words.

"What happened to me?" she asked drowsily.

"The little girl became a princess, and grew up in the castle with her new friends and her big bedroom and all of her pets and stuffed animals."

"'Nimals," Audrey mumbled.

"Yes. With all her animals. And she played all day and all night, and never had to take a bath, ever!" Ali slapped her gently, reproving, though Emily could tell that she was smiling. Emily's voice dropped slightly. "No, the little princess _did _have to take baths, but only once a week." She shot Ali a mischievous grin. "And she explored the whole world, and all the oceans, and all the animals, until one day she met a prince, and fell in love with him, and then she rode off into the sunset with him on golden retriever, because she didn't like horses," Emily concluded.

Audrey's breathing was deep and even. She peeked over the edge of the mattress one last time at the little girl before taking a step backwards, away from the bed. Ali stood there, the telltale traces of tears still lingering on her cheeks. Her heart growing warm in her chest, so warm she thought it would burst, Emily took Ali's hand, intertwining their fingers. She held it up for Ali to see before laying it gently on her chest, feeling her heart skip and flutter beneath her fingertips.

Ali looked up shyly, a look of love and adoration glowing in her eyes, and they shared a gentle smile.


	7. I Got My Angel Now

**A/N: This might change to an "M" rating, so if you're having trouble searching, that's why.**

_Remember those walls I built? Well baby they tumbling down. And they didn't even put up a fight; they didn't even put up a sound. I found a way to let you in, but I never really had a doubt. Standing in the light of your halo, I got my angel now._

"I still don't understand how you made that up so fast." Ali rolled over in bed, rustling the sheets and downy comforter as she went, propping herself up on one elbow to watch Emily with gentle, adoringly curious eyes. Her perfect, smooth, bow-shaped lips were quirked up at the corners in a rare show of happiness. She was smiling, and with Ali – well, that was a big deal.

When Ali smiled, the whole world came alive.

"I used to babysit, remember?" Emily turned her head on the pillow to watch as Ali fidgeted restlessly, pulling the chain of her gold necklace into her mouth and biting down. For a moment, she hesitated, fingers twitching at her side, before stretching her arm out and pulling the metal away. Ali sulked adorably, flawless lips pouting (Emily felt a warm tingle shoot through her at the sight).

In the lengthy moment of comfortable silence that passed, they simply existed. Neither girl moved, nor sighed, nor even made to speak. They merely breathed, in tandem, watching the other's features, eyes – the subtle rise and fall of their chests. All that weighed heavily in the air was a calm, peaceful sense of intimacy and familiarity.

For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed.

"Tell me more about her," Emily ventured at last to speak, her voice barely above a whisper; low, and hushed. Ali shifted slightly, readjusting her posture as she reclined; she casually tossed a wayward strand of hair over her shoulder, away from her face. She blinked once, turned on her back.

"Audrey Jean Day-DiLaurentis," she said at last, her soft tone a sigh – whether of weariness or regret, it was impossible to tell. "Three years, four months, and seventeen days old. Birthday – March sixteenth. She loves Disney movies – particularly Beauty and the Beast, and as far as she knows, the three of us are the only people that exist in the world outside of the stories I tell her. The words "guys" and "kids" don't mean a thing to her. And I sound like a police report – facts, nothing else here." Her eyes remained fastened firmly on the ceiling.

"What's – " Emily didn't even have to finish; Ali knew.

"Day-DiLaurentis," she murmured quietly, continuing to be unblinking. "That was my last name before we moved to Rosewood when I was nine. My mom was always a DiLaurentis – my father was the Day. They changed it when we moved." Her words had descended into a monotone; Emily didn't even bother to ask the obvious question – why.

When Ali turned her head to look at Emily, her features were blurred with sadness.

"She doesn't even have a birth certificate," she said softly. Slowly, cautiously, Emily took her hand. "I thought I had time. I was pretty sure I was pregnant down at Cape May – I'd already missed two weeks. I thought I had plenty of time to tell someone, sort it all out, get things done properly. I guess I didn't count on A being such a bitch." Emily blinked.

"What about Cece?" she asked quietly. "Could she have gotten you one?" Ali laughed; the sound was hollow and without humor.

"Cece," she murmured. "Cece knew. I knew it from the moment I told her I was late – she didn't even bother telling me that I was overreacting; she didn't sugarcoat it. She just gave me some vitamins and a pregnancy test and told me to go home and avoid the guys at all costs." She rolled over again, completely this time, to face Emily and gently squeeze their entwined hands.

"When I disappeared, not even Cece knew where I was at first. It was too dangerous for me to even tell her I was alive – there's no way she could have gotten one for me. I mean, college-aged friend of the missing Rosewood girl, picking up a _birth certificate _under her friend's name and delivering to an address that was unmarked on the city maps? She would have been arrested and tried for secondary homicide – if she was lucky." Emily drew a breath.

"So what did happen that night, after you left, when Cece told you to go back to your cabin and wait?" she asked, breathless. A creeping fear was beginning to sneak up on her – by the contemptuous, almost frightened look on Ali's face, she was sure it wasn't good.

"Wilden, that's what happened," Ali snapped suddenly, sitting straight up in bed. Emily cringed slightly at her harsh tone, and quickly struggled upright as well. Ali slammed her fists down on either side of her legs, glaring unforgivingly into the darkness. "Cece told me to avoid him in case he found out – not that he'd ever cared about me, anyways," she added bitterly. Tentatively, Emily reached out a hand, only to be smacked stingingly away. She looked down, cheeks burning; a moment later, a soft, warm hand wrapped reassuringly around her own.

"Sorry," Ali whispered gently. Emily shook her head.

"It's okay. You're upset," she said quietly. "Do – do you mind telling me what happened?" At her words, Ali's face grew dark again, and she dropped Emily's hand quickly, turning coldly away. She was silent for a moment, her body rigid and frozen in time, it seemed. It felt like only yesterday that they had been together again.

"He caught me on my way back to camp," she continued at last, her voice cold and emotionless, flat, and filled with no remorse at all. "He said he'd overheard what Cece and I were talking about. He wanted to know who did it. When I denied it, he attacked me." Emily drew a quick breath – without thinking, she reached her arms around Ali's waist, before flinching, sure of a stinging retort. Instead, she felt the shuddering of yet another bout of tears seize the smaller girl's body.

"He – he hit me," Ali whimpered, her voice low now and hinting blandly at tears. "He said I wasn't good enough to be a mom – that I wasn't strong enough, or nice enough. He said it would be better for someone else to kill it before I did." She was shaking horribly now, her whole body shivering violently as Emily struggled to maintain her grasp. "He – twisted my arm around and trapped me, an – and slammed me against the tree. I lost my balance, and he pushed me down and kicked me in the stomach. He must have missed her; I felt my ribs break, but my hands were over her, and he broke my wrist instead." She paused, wiping her eyes on her sleeve as Emily stroked her hair, pulling her back into her arms and cradling her against the sobs.

"He hit my head against something – I think it must have been one of the bottles in his hands – and I must have blacked out. The next thing I remember is waking up to Cece standing over me and raising a huge fuss." She grinned slightly, though her face was streaked with tears. "The whole time while she was checking over me, she was lecturing me about letting a guy hurt me, and being careful what I do when I'm pregnant. Wi – Wilden came out of his cabin once she'd gotten me to my feet, and he just said, 'be careful, Ali – you wouldn't want any of your secrets to die, now would you?' Cece must have known. She started yelling at him, and I think I passed out again."

"Ali," Emily whispered, and was about to hug her when Ali fell back in her arms and clutched at her, sobbing uncontrollably. She rocked her back and forth, Ali's tear-dampened face pressed into her neck, slender hands clutching her shoulders desperately. "Ali it's okay – you're safe now, you're with me. You're okay; Audrey's okay. We're all okay." Ali wriggled closer in her arms, nuzzling into her neck like a cold, lonely puppy. Emily found her hands threaded into the long, golden-blonde tresses, her hand beneath the back of the soft shirt, pressing into the warm, glowing skin . . .

Abruptly, a larger concern startled its way into her mind.

"Ali, did you ever get those ribs fixed?" Emily asked suddenly, worried. Ali looked up, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks. She shook her head, and Emily understood – if she'd gone to the hospital, there would have been awkward questions to answer to, with her parents, with Wilden – with everybody. And she wouldn't have been able to risk anyone finding out about her pregnancy.

"I told you, Cece checked me," Ali whispered, realizing Emily's fears and attempting to assuage them – with no results. "I mean, I did pass out a couple of times, but I was all right after a while." Suddenly, strangely, she lowered her head, chewing her lower lip. Emily could see a heavy blush flaming on her cheeks.

"I think that's when I knew," she whispered. When Emily narrowed her eyes, not getting it, she rolled her own, though her face was still faintly flushed and embarrassed, shifty-looking. "When I knew I liked girls, I mean." Emily struggled to keep her face a uniform mask, unwilling to betray her shock at the odd, most un-Ali-like statement.

"Her hands, Em," she added, giving Em a pointed look. "You know what I mean. Wilden and Ian's hands were always so _rough. _They _hurt _me when they held me. I thought that was just the way it was – I didn't know there was anything else, anything different, until she suddenly had her hands underneath my shirt. I know she was just trying to feel for broken ribs, but it felt so _different, _Em." She shuddered, but this time, it wasn't from the tears. "It felt . . . good," she whispered, as if somehow Cece could hear the confidential emotions being passed back and forth across the thin layer of sheets between them.

Watching Ali's eyes darken with unintentional lust, Emily suddenly decided to take a risk. Placing her hands carefully beneath the front of Ali's shirt, she slowly, deliberately dragged her blunt nails down the small girl's tight, toned abdomen.

"Did it feel like that?" Ali let out a soft moan, bright eyes fluttering shut beneath the weight of sudden gravity. When Emily's hands reached the top of her shorts and stopped, they shot open again, stunned. Her breathing was hot and heavy. For a moment, they merely stared at each other, dazed and speechless at the utterly risky and even dangerous move Emily had just made – not to mention what had come of it.

Emily had never seen Ali lose control like that, before.

"N – not quite," she stammered, diamond eyes wide open. A corner of Emily's lips quirked up devilishly.

"I would try something else, but we really should get some sleep," she said, her teasing concealed behind a mask of seriousness. Ali let out a peeved huff, settling back down into the blankets and turning her back on her friend. Emily's lips twitched as she slipped into the warmth of the comforter.

Contented, she was just beginning to slip into the blankness of sleep when she felt Ali shift; the blonde rolled over and pressed herself against her. Emily held her breath and Ali nuzzled sleepily into her neck, wrapping her arms around the brunette's shoulders. A soft sigh escaped her, and Emily assumed she was asleep. She smiled into the tickling tendrils of blonde hair, and, snuggling closer happily, she closed her eyes.

After she had dozed off, Ali's soft voice exhaled into her ear, hot and breathy, weighted with sleep.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."


	8. Your Mama Needs To Learn Her Manners

**A/N: Sorry guys, I know this one's really bad. School's a bitch! Let me know if I should continue.**

"All right, the rules are simple, Em," Ali stated, leading Emily about on a tour of the cabin (which, Emily learned, was much too fancy to be referred to as such). "Always lock the doors and windows. Don't leave except to go into the backyard, don't call anyone with a tracker on their phone, and don't let Audrey out of your sight. Do you hear me? _Never." _

Emily was doing her best to focus – she really was, but with the low-riding jean shorts and simple black bikini Ali was wearing, it was a little difficult. She _knew _that the blonde was doing it to provoke her, and normally, it would have annoyed her, but the thin, fading red marks still trailing down the girl's tight abdomen only fueled her desire to not let it show.

Shaking her head slightly, she willed herself back into reality to listen.

"Always shut the panel to the attic room when you're done in there – it's hidden and we can hide there if we have to. Don't go into the room farthest on the left at the end of the hall, and _promise _me you won't use up too much cream? It's expensive; Cece spent nearly four months trying to stock this place up for me here." Emily nodded robotically as Ali spun around on her toes, watched as the shorter girl frowned.

"You aren't listening to me." Emily blinked.

"No, Ali, really I am," she murmured, dazedly putting a hand to her forehead. "Or at least, I'm trying, but when you walk around dressed like that without any reserves it just . . . drives me to dust, Ali, it really does," she mumbled, leaning heavily back against the wall in a vague attempt to stay on her feet.

"Mama always dresses like that," a small voice piped up from somewhere around the area of their waists. "She says it's comfy." Both older girls turned to see Audrey standing at the landing of the staircase, dressed adorably in a bright yellow sundress with ruffled straps on the sleeves. Emily bent to pick up the little girl; Audrey let out an excited squeal and squirmed, positioning herself comfortably as if she was quite content to sit there forever.

"Your _mama _needs to learn common decency," Emily muttered. "Or else she'll find that swim suits are _much _better off when they're not . . ."

"_Emily, _for god's sakes! Will you stop corrupting my daughter already! I don't need her asking me unnecessary _questions _before she's even four years old!" Though Ali's tone was irritated, Emily could see the sparkling hint of a flirt-fest coming on. Encouraging such behavior was severely unlike the old Ali, but not at all disconcerting.

"What, do you mean like the time I asked how two girls can have babies?" Audrey had clearly inherited her mother's precocious, baiting personality. Ali groaned, sinking back against the doorframe with her eyes shut. She opened one, using it to glare at Emily before abruptly standing up and passing both girls as she disappeared around the corner of the staircase. Audrey and Emily looked at each other, frowning curiously.

"Aren't you coming?" Ali yelled from downstairs, her voice echoing through the barren house. Emily shrugged; Audrey imitated her, and they hastened downstairs to find Ali standing at the sliding door to the backyard, hands on her hips, tapping a foot impatiently.

"We're going outside," she informed them, spinning about and pushing open the screen door. Emily stared as Audrey wriggled to be put down.

"But I thought we couldn't go outside?" she protested, not quite sure of why she was arguing. Ali sighed.

"I _knew _you weren't paying attention to me, Em. If you had listened you would have heard me say that the backyard is fine as long as we don't go too far; this place is uncharted on local maps but that doesn't mean I want to give the neighbors more of a view than they need." Emily nodded dumbly, still not quite able to process coherent thoughts. Ali slipped out the door with an exhalation of disgust, Audrey right behind her. Emily merely stood there for a moment, hand to her temple, before Ali leaned back in the door.

"_Emily, _my god, you're so slow! Come _on!" _ And with that, she grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her sharply out the door. Stumbling hastily onto the patio bricks, Emily stopped and stared. In the laughter of the night before, she had neglected to examine the backyard. Her first thought was simple. _Ali's real done herself well._

The yard was elaborate, small but sprawling, with perfectly manicured hedges and flowering shrubs of brilliant hues. A Jacuzzi, marble-lined and fancy, stood in the left hand corner. A thick line of hemlocks framed the entire place, with cherry trees planted in each corner. There was even a small tree house located in one of them.

Emily's eyes travelled across the scenery, drinking it all in, impressed, yet her gaze in the end was drawn to the most beautiful sight of all. Ali stood in the center of the lawn, waiting, still striking her diva pose yet with a less defined edge now; softer. The lines were becoming blurred for all of them, and it reminded Emily of home. Ali's lengthy, tumbling curls had come loose and were now blowing about gently in the breeze; her gaze cast downwards, biting her lip nervously.

"Isn't it pretty?" a small voice piped up at Emily's elbow. Emily's neck turned so fast she thought it would crack; she smiled at the sight of Audrey's wide, hopeful eyes staring straight up at her.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, tucking a wisp of stray blonde hair behind the little girl's ear from where it had come loose in the wind. "Your mother's special, you know that, right sweetie?" Audrey beamed happily, nodding so exuberantly that it looked painful.

"She's the best mama in the whole wide world," she confided, her whisper loud though it was clearly meant to be confidential. She lowered her voice slightly, seeing her mother's eyes fill up with tears, and beckoned for Emily to lean down so that she could whisper in her ear. "She's scared that no one loves her." Emily looked up, straight at Ali, whose gaze was focused on them both in a mixture of adoration and hopelessness.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked Audrey, playfully poking at the little girl's stomach. Audrey giggled, blocking the next assault with her tiny, skinny little arms. "You have to promise _never _to tell your mama."

"Yes," Audrey whispered, her voice still a shrill giggle. Emily covered her mouth with her hand so that Ali couldn't lip read.

"I love her." Audrey giggled adorably, covering her mouth with her hand. A second later, her baby-blue eyes widened in fear; a shrill squeal escaped her lips as she raised a shaking finger to point at something behind and slightly above Emily's left shoulder.

"Ma – mama! He's back!" Emily's head whipped around; she stumbled slightly as she lost her balance. Staring straight into the bushes, her gaze wildly searched the shrubbery for some sign of what was causing the little girl to quake with unadulterated fear. Her eyes had just locked on the object, a black-robed baby doll mask, when something heavy and warm collided harshly with her shoulder.

"_Get inside Audrey, now! Hurry! Quickly!"_ Ali's face was frantic, tight and completely drained of color as she pushed and shoved her little girl towards the house. Emily was rooted to the spot, staring in horror and utter bewilderment as the tall, cloaked figure proceeded to emerge rapidly from the bushes and make its way towards them.

"For god's sake, Emily, move!" Ali screamed, already halfway back to the house. The hysterical, panicked tone in the usually composed girl's voice jolted Emily's to her senses; tearing her gaze away, she began to stumble blindly towards the house, and then to sprint. She tore past the patio and through the door, past Ali's horrified face, as she felt a piece of fabric brush her ankle.

Ali drove Emily towards the stairs, Audrey already having disappeared around the corner; her thin hand slammed down on a button near the door that had previously escaped Emily's notice. Almost immediately, metal shades shot down over the doors, windows, and the entire back wall of the house, sealing it. She jerked away as something heavy slammed against the door, and tripped up the staircase to find Emily standing confused in the hallway, cradling a screaming Audrey in her arms.

"Follow Audrey," Ali instructed tersely, nudging open a sliding panel in the wall with her foot to reveal a narrow crawl space. Emily looked uneasy, and Ali sighed – an odd reaction in such a dire situation – and took Audrey in her own grip. "Just go. I'll explain inside. Just _go _Emily! Hurry!" Emily snapped out of her daze, and obeyed.

The short tunnel ended in a small room, just large enough for about five people to comfortably sit in. It was unfurnished. Emily had barely settled in when Ali emerged, slamming shut the panel behind her and collapsing on the floor in a fit of sobs. Emily was startled; in all her life, she had never seen Ali cry so much in such a short period of time.

Without hesitating more than a second, she enfolded the shuddering girl in her arms. Ali's skin was damp with tears, salty, and her entire fragile form was trembling as Emily tucked her head beneath her chin, sighing heavily. Ali curled in on herself, resting her head against Emily's chest; in the corner, Audrey watched with her thumb lodged firmly in her mouth, her eyes wide. At last, the toddler crawled tentatively over to the pair, placing a gentle hand on her mother's shoulder.

"Mama, it's okay," she whispered, petting Ali's slightly damp, salt-tinted, stiff hair. "Emily's going to keep us safe. You said that people who love each other never let anything bad happen. We're going to be okay."


	9. ThAt FAteful Night

**A/N: Sorry you guys! You really won't believe how busy I've been. I decided to do a special flashback about Ali and Hector the mask maker, since this is Halloween and some crazy things have been happening! Plus, you never know what can happen on Halloween. ;) Did you guys like the new episode? Tell me about it!**

_Got__a secret, can you keep it? Swear this one you'll save. Better lock it in your pocket; taking this one to the grave. If I show you then I know you won't tell what I said, 'cuz two can keep a secret if one of them is dead._

_~ Flashback ~_

_"__Where's my money?" _ Every resonating tone of Ali's voice was frantic, overcome with a note of panic completely unreal, unlike her. Hector paused in his organization of the front desk, raising his messy, unkept head to view the young lady. What he saw startled him, his befuddlement was betrayed in his eyes; the lines of Alison's face were etched with plain fear, hysteria showing in the narrowed, terrified eyes.

When the girl's glare flashed angrily, he hastily arranged his features into a more professional expression.

"When I get paid, you get paid, minus the cost of the masks you wanted – that was the deal," Hector replied smoothly, attempting to disguise his rather obvious confusion and, if he was to be so bold as to admit it, worry. Ali's jaw tightened, her lips pressing together in a thin, tight line; her teeth were clearly being clenched together almost painfully.

"I don't have what I owe you," Hector continued, slowly, cautiously.

"I'll take what you got and call it square!" she hissed, anger and terror displayed in every angle of her features. She had quite the pretty face, Hector had remarked on previous visits, and he noted that even then, in the throws of horror, her face still retained the glanced-off effect of frightened, hostile beauty. Her anger and fear was such that she was nearly screaming; her voice was hoarse, suggesting that she was beyond the point of frightened tears, and in that moment, Hector understood that Alison consisted of more than he could ever dream to be.

"_Give me. The money," _Alison commanded, her voice harsh and commanding – terrified.

Slowly, Hector removed his wallet from his coat pocket, and extracted every wrinkled, folded dollar bill that was to be found within. Alison snatched them frantically out of his hand, yanking slightly on his shirtsleeve in the process. Almost clumsily in her speed, she riffled through the cash. Silently, inwardly, Hector pleaded with himself to remain calm, and won the battle.

"I will pay you the rest, you can count on it," he assured her, watching as the bowed head of soft, wavy blonde hair hung down, Ali muttering to herself in the process. At last, her head jerked up, stuffing the money carelessly into her purse, and she cast him a last look of wide, wild eyes. Even then, Hector could see the panic there.

"What's the quickest way to Route 30 from here?" she asked quickly, her hand already clamped to her side, ready to flee. Hector raised his eyebrows, but answered, and an inner clanging feeling told him that this moment was a turning point, a vital moment; his answer would determine whether she lived or died. He watched the young girl with the dread in her eyes, and knew that he would never see her again. For a split second, a strange part of him considered not telling, but then the better part of him, the little boy long lost, won over, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Go around the lake, pick up Limerick Road, and take Route 202 to the Ecton Bypass," he instructed, his voice still tinged with strangeness and curiosity. Alison turned and walked quickly out the door, slamming it behind her in her haste. Hector reached the porch just in time to see her slide rapidly into a black car, and watch it drive away with such speed that the tires flung up gravel to every side.

Ali kept her eyes on the road as she relayed the directions to Cece, unwilling to look at her or even glance in her direction. After a moment of silence, following the soft blaring of static and an old song on the radio, Cece spoke. Her eyes were still turned to the road.

"If he finds you, I won't be able to help," she said quietly. "I'm dropping you off, and then you have to stay out of sight, all right? You _must not be seen."_ Her voice, too, was tingling with fear and uncertainty, and like Hector, she wondered – was she doing the right thing? Was it wrong to accept this sort of responsibility? If the young girl died, it would be their faults – all of their faults.

Yet it was Alison. There was nothing they could do.

"I know," Ali responded curtly, her voice a sort of barren sigh. Cece glanced at her for the first time.

"I mean it Ali," she said firmly. "Once you're out, you're on your own. If someone sees you, if something happens, I won't be there to save you." Ali didn't look.

"I know. But don't worry about me. They have no idea what I'm capable of." For a moment, Cece looked at her, and then a sudden form of shadow in the road made her swerve. A man was standing in the darkened, dusky country road. Both girls ducked, screamed, and then peered over the dash with wide, frightened eyes.

In the center of the road, quivering with fright, stood a deer, not a man at all. It watched them for a second with wide, innocent doe eyes before bounding off into the woods once more. Cece let out a sigh of relief, slamming a hand on the steering wheel as they started up again.

When they reached where they were going, Cece pulled the car to a stop, and her hand paused on the key. She stared at the younger girl in her jacket, and Ali looked back; their eyes held, their gaze never wandering.

"I really do love you, Cece," Ali said finally, her voice sad and lonely, lost already in the dark. "You've always been my sister – the sister I never really had. I've appreciated it more than you could ever imagine. Thank you for – for everything." For a moment, her voice broke, and the marble-masked, untouchable Cece Drake blinked back tears. Then she leaned over across the girl's lap, and flicked the door handle, pushing open the door of the expensive car her father had bought her at age fifteen – the same age as the frightened young girl sitting beside her in the passenger seat.

"No thanks from you, kiddo – I mean Ali," she corrected, smiling in a sad sort of way. "You were the true star all along. Now get out there, and don't get caught. Good luck." And then Ali was out the door, and Cece watched her disappear into the trees, somehow knowing in her heart that she would never see the pretty-faced, laughing teenager ever again.

Once again, Ali proved herself to be more than anyone else would ever be.

As she walked away with hurried strides, glancing about her for any sign of movement, the girl knew that she should have been focusing on the task ahead. Yet something strange was happening to Ali – a strange mindset approaching her, and all at once, an odd thought entered her head.

The animal Cece's expensive car had nearly hit consumed her mind, and though she knew without a shadow of doubt that the shape which had emerged from the dark had been a deer, Ali found herself remembering it as a sad, faceless man. The deer-not-deer was the sole concern in her eyes when as she approached her fate, leaving Cece, and the sensation of it consumed her to the very core of her soul so that its true meaning had vanished, forgotten by the end of the day. It contacted her, spoke to her soul in a way that she had never experienced before – it seemed not to represent merely a deer, but her whole life; the entirety of her existence, and of humanity.

It wore down her being to a thin veil of consciousness, and later that night, when she breathed out her last breath buried below the dirt, among the rocks and the earthworms beneath the yard she knew so well, she was only just beginning to understand.

_~End Flashback~_


End file.
